


And the Earth Whispers Back

by stardropdream



Category: xxxHoLic
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-02-24
Packaged: 2017-12-03 09:54:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/697009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Himawari's life pans out after Yuuko's death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And the Earth Whispers Back

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ January 22, 2011.

**I.**   
“Himawari-chan,” Watanuki says, and Himawari looks up, turning around from the two posts marking the exit of Watanuki’s inherited shop. She’d been visiting off and on for the past year, watching the subtle changes in Watanuki’s eyes—but still returning all the same.   
  
She smiles. “What is it? Have I forgotten something?”   
  
Watanuki shakes his head, but doesn’t immediately speak. He offers a small little smile. Himawari remembers a time when his smile wasn’t quite so painful to look at. She remembers a time when Watanuki’s smile wasn’t quite as painful as her own were.   
  
She smiles in return.   
  
But his smile slips quickly enough. “There’s… something that I have to tell you.”  
  
“Hm?” Himawari asks. “Oh, do you have something I need to give Doumeki-kun?”   
  
“No,” Watanuki says, and looks miserable, “Himawari-chan, I—”  
  
“Or maybe,” she says, looking up at the sky, her fingers curling around her own chin in thought, “You’d like me to bring something when I come by next time? I was thinking this weekend I would—”  
  
“No, Himawari-chan, I—”  
  
“Or maybe,” she cuts off, trying to stop his words, trying to stop what she knows—suspects, has always suspected—is coming, “I should come by sooner? I can bring some of the cookies I made. I tried your recipe and—”  
  
“You can’t,” Watanuki says, louder, cutting her off.  
  
She stops, abruptly. Her hand drops and she shifts her gaze away from the sky. But she cannot look at him—not directly. She studies the ground, near his feet.   
  
“Himawari-chan…” Watanuki begins.   
  
“I’m sorry—it’s Watanuki-kun’s birthday, after all,” Himawari says, quieter this time. “I didn’t give you your gift.”  
  
She rummages through her bag.   
  
“No, don’t,” he says, and his voice cracks with emotion.   
  
She freezes, not picking her face up from where she studies her bag.   
  
“You can’t… you can’t anymore,” Watanuki says softly.   
  
“What do you mean, Watanuki-kun?” Himawari asks, smiling, smiling because she can’t think of anything else to do—can’t even imagine what else she can do. “Of course I can give you a gift—it’s your birthday, after all. I’ve given you a gift for the past two years, don’t you remember? This year it’s—”  
  
“Himawari-chan, stop,” Watanuki begs. He swallows thickly. “You can’t come here anymore, Himawari-chan. You… you can’t come back to the shop.”  
  
Himawari is quiet.   
  
“I… Yuuko-san, before—she only ever invited you back once, after you became a customer. I didn’t realize at the time, but now… now, after a year of owning this shop. I know that… it was for a reason. Because of your…”  
  
“Of my what?” Himawari asks, and the words come out a bit more bitter than she’d intended, but she does not apologize. Her hand is grasping the wrapped gift she’d made for him. She’d made his gift the year before, as well, though now that she thought on it, he wasn’t able to wear it often, if at all. “Because of my luck?”  
  
She feels her world dropping away—feels the moment when she realizes that she’d known this would happen, and had hoped beyond all hope. She’d hoped, beyond all reason, that Watanuki was different—that Watanuki wouldn’t push her away because of what she was. He’d lasted longer than she’d thought would be the case. She’d been so sure the day he’d fallen from the window would be the last day they’d see each other—but no, instead, it had only taken two years for Watanuki to realize. Only—  
  
“It’s bad for your nature, the shop,” Watanuki says, quietly, miserably. He looks as if he may cry, and despite the way her life is falling apart around her, Himawari cannot and never will for Watanuki to be in pain.   
  
“I understand,” Himawari says, words bitter as she continues to smile, even as her eyes burn with unshed tears pressing insistently to the back of her eyes. “It was only a matter of time before—”  
  
“Crossing dreams and meeting in dreams… it isn’t good for _you_ , Himawari-chan,” Watanuki insists, expression crumbling. “And… my power is growing but I still don’t understand it. Being together so often… it can’t be. You… you can’t return to this place.”   
  
She slumps. The tears blur her vision for a moment until she lifts her hand and covers her face. She breathes in, steadily. And then nods.   
  
“I understand,” she says. “I understand what you mean, Watanuki-kun, and yet I—I can’t accept it.”  
  
“Himawari-chan…”  
  
“I can’t just leave,” Himawari insists. “I can’t accept that. Not when—not when I finally—”  
  
She turns her face away.  
  
She feels Watanuki coming up close to her, and she almost recoils, almost retreats. But then Watanuki takes her hand, shaking, she realizes, and holds it tight. When she dares to look at him again, his expression is crumbling, threatening heartbreak.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he says, quietly.   
  
She stares at him, and then smiles—feels the razorblade edges before she can stop them. She is okay—she is okay—she is okay—  
  
“Don’t make me leave,” she whispers. “Please… don’t make me leave you.”   
  
“Himawari-chan, please—”  
  
“I can’t just leave. I… it can’t be that we can never see one another again.”   
  
He is silent.  
  
“There has to be some way—I can’t… I don’t want to be without you,” she says, honestly, feeling the words weighing on her heart starting to bubble to the surface. Softly, she says, “Please…”   
  
He closes his eyes, and does not pull his hand away from hers. She blinks her eyes rapidly, trying to clear her vision of unshed tears.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know that…”   
  
“At least… let me see you sometimes,” Himawari says.  
  
He shakes his head, miserable.   
  
“Your birthday?” Himawari asks, shaking. “Can’t I see you on your birthday?”   
  
He is quiet.  
  
And she lapses into silence, as well.   
  
They stand there, holding hands, for a long moment, before Watanuki slowly nods his head and offers her a small, hesitant smile. “My birthday, then.”   
  
And then he releases her hand and takes a step back.   
  
She watches him, and he continues to smile.  
  
“I’ll… see you next year, Himawari-chan.”   
  
Himawari nods, and turns away.  
  
She hears Watanuki say, “I’ll work hard to make this place safe for both of us.”  
  
And then she walks away from the shop, turns the corner, and starts running, letting the tears run down her cheeks freely now—unrestrained. She sobs into her hand, eyes blurred with tears. She whips around the corner and sees Doumeki, but she doesn’t dare stop and keeps moving.   
  
“Oi, Kunogi—”  
  
His hand grabs her wrist before she can get away and she jerks to a stop. She keeps her head ducked, but knows her shoulders are heaving with restrained sobbing—knows that, above anyone else, Doumeki could read her like a book.   
  
“What—” he starts, begins to demand what’s the matter.  
  
But she doesn’t let him finish, and instead stumbles into him and clings to him, crying into his chest. He stands there, struck dumb for a moment, and she just clings and cries. She shakes her head a few times whenever she fears he might try to push her away or try to talk to her. But he does neither. And, after a long moment, he awkwardly wraps an arm around her back and holds her as she cries, clinging to his shirt as she sobs, shoulders shaking.   
  
He doesn’t press her or pull away, just lets her cry against him. And once she’s calmed down a little to at least step back and wipe at her face—red and puffy—he offers her a handkerchief with she takes with a watery, grateful smile.   
  
“What happened?” he asks her, and she knows he’s concerned.   
  
She shakes her head, burying her face into his handkerchief and says nothing.   
  
But after a long moment, shakily, she says, “From now on, Doumeki-kun… you have to tell me everything that happens. From now on, you have to let me know as much as you can about Watanuki-kun.”   
  
“Kunogi, what are—”  
  
But she doesn’t wait for him to answer and instead rushes off, forgetting to give him back the handkerchief but unwilling to stop. He does not chase after her.   
  
  
  
**II.**  
The train’s whistle sounds in the distance—it is nearing the station.   
  
“It’s alright,” she says, not looking at her companion. “There’s only one day in the year that keeps me here. So during those other days, it’s okay if I’m far away.”   
  
Doumeki doesn’t say anything, but it’s clear he isn’t pleased.  
  
Himawari smiles at him. “Thank you for accompanying me to the train stop.”  
  
“… Will you be alright?” he asks.  
  
“Mm,” she says with a nod. She looks off, along the tracks, into the distant north—where her new university is. She holds her back tightly, and her smile is only slightly hesitant. “Mm, I’ll be alright. It’s… strange, to think that high school is over, and that I’ll be so far away, but… well. It’ll be alright.”   
  
It’d been a little under a year since she’d agreed to see Watanuki only on his birthday. It’d been a hard decision, but in the end Himawari decided it had to be the right one. Staying in the same city, being unable to see Watanuki or be the three of them as they once were, is too painful. New scenery would be good. A change. Moving forward.   
  
It is painful.   
  
She looks down at her feet.   
  
“Undoubtedly I’ll cause some people a lot of trouble, but even so… this is something I have to do.”   
  
Doumeki doesn’t say anything, but she likes to think he understands.  
  
She boards the train once it comes to the platform, and as she’s hoisting herself up into the compartment, Doumeki grabs her wrist, stopping her.   
  
He looks up at her. “Be safe.”  
  
She smiles. “Don’t you mean that blessing for everyone else?”  
  
“No,” he says, releases her wrist, and steps back, staring up at her. She falters, for half a moment, wants to step down off the train and hug him—hold onto the last remnants of the past, of happier times.   
  
But she knows she can’t, so she only nods and turns away, going to find a free seat.   
  
  
  
**III.**   
University life takes adjustment, but she does adapt. The first year she goes through four different roommates until finally she decides it’s better if she lives alone. Her hallmates spend most of their time away from the rooms, going to friends’ places or to the library. Himawari understands, and she does not mind the solitude.   
  
Himawari spends most of her days alone, but she does what she can. She attends lectures. She studies. She has a few friends every few months, and it’s only a matter of time before they distance themselves from her and she befriends others. It’s a cycle, but one she’s known since she was young. So it is okay.   
  
One day, a boy trips in front of her, all his papers going flying. He makes a small, lamenting cry that dies in his throat when Himawari kneels to help him and he catches sight of her.   
  
“Oh,” he says.   
  
She looks up and smiles. “Are you alright? I’m sorry…”  
  
“W-why are you apologizing?” he stutters out, and then seems to grow even more embarrassed and clears his throat. He takes the papers from her hand and mutters a quiet, “Thank you.”   
  
She keeps smiling and picks herself up off the ground. He stands, too, a bit too quickly.   
  
“Thanks,” he says again.  
  
“You’re welcome,” she says with a smile, dusting off the front of her skirt. “I’m sorry that you tripped.”  
  
“Hey, you don’t have to apologize. I’m just kinda clumsy, I guess,” he says with a laugh, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly.   
  
They stand there. He seems as if he wishes to say something, but can’t summon up the urge. She continues to smile, feeling oddly exposed with him watching her like he is.   
  
“Anyway,” he says. “Um. Thanks again.”  
  
And then he walks away, face bright red and head ducked. Himawari watches him go. Tanpopo chirps on her shoulder. She pets him, absently, eyes following his back.   
  
And then she lowers her eyes. “Ah.”   
  
She sits back down on the bench and looks up at the sky. It’s another beautiful day.  
  
Her thoughts are interrupted, however, by approaching footsteps, and when she looks up again, the boy is hurrying back towards her. She blinks in surprise, tilting her head.   
  
“Is—” she begins.   
  
“I’m very sorry,” he interrupts, standing in front of her with a grim expression. “But if I don’t do this now, I’m going to regret it—um. Will you go out with me?”   
  
“Eh?” is all she can say. The boldness shocks her into speechlessness, and she knows that she can’t ever possibly hide her shocked expression.   
  
He sputters. “Um. Oh, geez. That probably sounded really weird, didn’t it? I’m sorry! It’s just that—you’re really pretty and you look kinda lonely just sitting there alone. Oh, unless you’re waiting for someone! A-ah, I should have thought of that—”   
  
She smiles, despite herself. “I don’t even know your name.”  
  
“Oh, crap!” he says, face heating up further.   
  
It’s achingly familiar, she thinks, as he sputters and introduces himself and asks for her name. When she tells him, he seems thrilled, smiling ( _“That’s a really pretty name, Kunogi-san.”_ ) and says a few more things, absently. But he does not renew his invitation for a date, and Himawari doesn’t remind him.   
  
“Oh wow, is that a bird on your shoulder?” he asks, mouth agape.   
  
Tanpopo has peeked out from behind some of the curls of Himawari’s hair. Himawari’s smile softens, and she nods.  
  
“This is Tanpopo.”  
  
“Tanpopo,” he says, and then grins. “That’s really cute. You’re both named after flowers!”   
  
“Mm,” she says, and her expression softens further, but also grows a bit sad. “Yes… someone very important to me named him that because of it.”  
  
“Important—oh. Ah. A boyfriend?” he asks, and Himawari is taken aback by how crushed he sounds.  
  
“… No,” she says, eyes down. “We aren’t anything like that.”   
  
Even if she wishes for it, she knows it cannot be so. He has stopped his life, halted his time, to wait for someone else. Even if she loves him, even if she knows he loves her in turn—it cannot be. And that thought saddens her.  
  
“Ah… are you okay?”  
  
“Huh?” she asks.  
  
“You looked really sad,” he says, and does look concerned. “Is it—um. An unrequited love?”   
  
She looks at him, once again taken aback by his boldness. It reminds her of Doumeki a little, except this boy is much too flustered and sputtery to be like Doumeki. In that way, he’s like Watanuki.  
  
Her chest aches.   
  
“Something like that,” she says, quietly.   
  
“Sorry,” he says, scratching at his arm. “I made you remember something painful, didn’t I?”  
  
“It’s okay,” she says. She smiles. “Really. It’s not a bad thing, to be sad sometimes.”   
  
He frowns, thoughtful.   
  
She stands. “I’m very sorry—but I have to drop off some books at the library.”   
  
“Um,” he says. “Can I walk you?”  
  
She looks at him for a moment, and when she smiles again, it is not as fake as she’d thought it would be. “… If you’d like.”   
  
That night, she calls Watanuki and listens to him talk about his day—he’s been sleeping a lot, but everything is fine. Himawari suspects there is more to the story, but knows that Doumeki will tell her all about it when he visits her soon. He always lets her know about the dealings in the shop, of the prices Watanuki miscalculates and leads to his painful injuries. She thinks to herself that it would be much worse if she was there, too.  
  
She looks down at the table the phone sits on, at the slip of paper that had the boy from earlier today’s number on it.   
  
When she hangs up with Watanuki, after saying _I love you_ and _talk to you soon_ (never _goodbye_ ), she stays at the table, frowning thoughtfully. Her hand rests on the phone.  
  
And then she picks it up and calls him, asking him out on a date. She can hear him grinning through the phone and quickly setting up the details to meet the next day.  
  
She goes to bed feeling warmer than she has in years, even if the back of her mind tells her that it won’t last.   
  
  
  
**IV.**  
“What?” Doumeki asks, staring at her with a rare, blatant expression on his face.   
  
“He asked me to marry him,” Himawari says calmly, and fills Doumeki’s teacup when she notices it’s empty.   
  
He’s still staring at her. He doesn’t speak, but the disbelief is clear.   
  
“… And I said yes,” she says, quieter this time. She looks down, and then rolls up her sleeves—too long, covering to the tips of her fingers—and shows him the ring on her finger. He doesn’t react right away, and after a tense moment, she pulls her hand away again. She keeps her eyes down.   
  
He is still staring.  
  
“It’s been three years since I’ve met him… it was only a matter of time,” she says. She still keeps her eyes lowered. “He hasn’t run away yet. He… wants to stay.”  
  
Her hand reaches up and touches the back of her neck.  
  
“He… doesn’t think I’m horrible. He doesn’t think I’m an ugly person. Even if I am...”   
  
He looks as if he is going to protest.  
  
She smiles, and waves her hand dismissively. “It’s alright. It’s not the only reason. I… I do love him.”  
  
She studies her teacup.  
  
“Maybe he isn’t the most important person to me, but he’s… he’s a good person.”   
  
Doumeki is frowning when she looks up again. She smiles.   
  
“I’m a very selfish person, Doumeki-kun,” she says. She holds up her hand when Doumeki goes to speak, silencing him. “I spent so many years thinking that I was guilty, and only guilty. But no. I am far more selfish than I am guilty.”   
  
She studies her hand, eyes down.  
  
She continues: “If I wasn’t selfish or guilty, I probably would have killed myself a long time ago.” He looks as if he will say something, and she shakes her head with a small smile. “But I can’t do that—I want to live, even if my living causes other people sadness. And he… doesn’t want to leave me. To him, I’m… the most important person in his life.”   
  
She twists the ring around her finger, still refusing to look up at Doumeki.   
  
“But Watanuki is—” Doumeki begins.   
  
Himawari shakes her head, interrupting him: “I can’t live the life you are for him. I can’t stop everything just to wait for him.”  
  
Doumeki falls silent, and when Himawari glances up again, Doumeki looks miserable.   
  
“Watanuki-kun gave me back my life, and I won’t waste it waiting for him to reclaim his. That isn’t… what he’d want for me, is it? He’d… want me to be…”  
  
She trails off.  
  
Her voice cracks when she whispers, “… happy. He’d want me to be happy. I can’t be happy, so long as I cause him suffering and so long as he’s waiting like that. I cannot be happy with him.”   
  
She looks away.  
  
“If that makes me selfish and cruel—then so be it.”   
  
She closes her eyes.  
  
“I accept that. We’ve all made our choices. And we can’t take them back.”   
  
When she looks up again, Doumeki’s head is bowed. He says nothing, but Himawari hadn’t expected for him to speak. She sets down her teacup and reaches out her hand—the hand without the ring—and touches his hand. She keeps it there, and he does not pull his hand away. Tears come to her eyes and she steadies her breath before speaking.  
  
“I’m sorry, Doumeki-kun.”  
  
He sighs, and shakes his head.   
  
She curls her fingers around his, and squeezes. And she tells herself that everything will be okay, but already she knows that things will never be the same. She had always accepted that, had always expected it. But seeing Doumeki so sad, so alone—is painful. She can only imagine what Watanuki’s reaction will be when she tells him the truth about her relationship.   
  
She closes her eyes and squeezes his hand again. Tentatively, he squeezes back.   
  
“I want you to be happy, too.”  
  
He shakes his head absently, and their fingers interlace.   
  
She blinks away the tears and knows that everything is broken. All they can do is make do with the pieces that are left behind.   
  
And she knows she cannot look back.


End file.
